The Underworld
by Countess Vlad Dracula
Summary: Fiora Cavazza is feared by many and loved by few. Her devotion to the Order is to be admired. But as the assassins make their presence known in Roma, as well as a certain Master Assassin, Fiora begins to see the lines of her reality begin to blur.
1. Chapter 1

The man owed money, a very large sum. That's all she knew as to the reason she was stalking this fat noble. His skin was an unhealthy pallor, falling in disgusting rolls, while his clothes were outlandish colors that clashed and screamed for attention. _Perhaps not the right attention, no?_ It was early in the evening but dark enough for the torches to be lit along the streets and cast large shadows, as well as dark enough for the underbelly of Roma to begin to surface. The street Fiora walked was busy with activity, stern business men on their way home from work, women doing their last minute shopping, courtesans on every corner, and at least one drunken man down each alley. All of this was what she needed, distraction. Walking with a slight sway, she saw the eyes of even the chastest of men looking in her direction. Passing a hand over her shoulder, she swept all her hair to one side, exposing her neck. The noble was now on his way to one of the courtesans on the corner, a dirty blonde walking gingerly but smiling all the same. _Seems she's already had business._ Fiora sauntered over to the other side of the street, walking up to a man leaning against the building, his eyes focused on everything but her face.

"_Salute, _sailor," she purred, her thigh brushed against his.

"_Salute," _he responded, a hand moving to her waist.

"You look like you've had a hard day's work?" Fiora said, fiddling with the stained collar of the man's shirt.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the noble being lead by the hand into the dark alley just off of the corner. _Time to move._

"I have. I'm in need of a bit of respite," he said, his voice husky, his other hand on her waist.

"Hmmm, too bad I'm booked, _caro_."

Fiora ran a finger across his lips before she slid out of his meaty hands and crossed the street, slipping into the dark alley after the noble.

It wasn't hard to find them. The noble sounded like a hungry pig and the courtesan wasn't much better. Walking up to the undulating couple, Fiora grabbed the noble by the collar and quite literally disengaged him from the woman. He hit the pavement hard and scrambled to hide his swollen appendage.

"Leave," Fiora ordered to the courtesan, her voice holding none of the seductive tone it had before.

The woman stood shocked for a moment but then scrambled down the alley and disappeared around the corner.

"W-w-who are you? What-what do you want?" the noble cried, crawling away from Fiora as she slowly advanced.

"You've been a naughty boy, _signore_. Whatever will the order do with you?" she taunted, her saunter returning as she removed her fan from its case, fanning herself slowly.

The noble's eyes, if possible, widen more and his grip on his still undone pants tightened. Fiora smirked.

"Wait! Give me a couple more days. I can get the money I owe!"

"And watch you waste it away, excited over trash? I'm afraid I can't do that, _signore_."

She flicked her fan open and pounced. In one fluid movement, she leaped forward and struck the noble's throat, severing to the bone. The noble fell back into a puddle of thick, red blood. He didn't even have time to cry in fear.

"I've come to collect," Fiora whispered in the dead man's ear, wiping her fan on the noble's tunic before straightening and returning it to its sheath.

_Just another day in the underworld of Roma._

Fiora made her way to the barbershop, swaying with the crowd. It was now late in the night and the moon was high. Entering the shop, she dropped the courtesan attitude and studied the vacant shop.

"Baltasar!"

Nothing. Fiora sighed and walked further into the shop.

"Baltasar!"

A man dressed as a barber suddenly appeared from the back of the sharp, his beady eyes filled with annoyance and expectance.

"Is the deed done?" Baltasar questioned.

"The pig is dead," Fiora replied, falling into a chair and propping her feet on the nearby table.

"Cesare will be pleased then. The noble asked for more than he could pay for."

Fiora scoffed at the mention of Cesare," What news of the assassins?"

"They've been making more moves and becoming more bold," Baltasar said, sitting in the chair opposite her. "They say the _Maestro_ has arrived."

Fiora raised an eyebrow. She had heard of this _Maestro_, Cesare had spoken of him before. What was his name? Ah, Ezio Auditore. A handsome name.

"Cesare wants us to continue our study of the assassin's, as well as find the _Maestro_."

Fiora hummed," Cesare's feeling threatened I see. This _Maestro _must be quite a man."

"A man that will soon be face down in a pool of his own blood."

Eyeing Baltasar warily, she doubted that they could ever really take down this Auditore. The stories that she'd heard of Auditore and the assassins in Venezia and Firenzia spoke of their undeniable success and their annoying habit of staying alive.

"Well, if we're done here," she started, standing and walking towards the door," I'll take my leave."

"Cesare has a new assignment for you tomorrow," Baltasar called after her.

"Surprise, surprise," she muttered as she exited the shop, plastering the courtesan back onto her countenance.

Fiora was several streets down from her poor excuse of a home when she heard the screams from a nearby alley. A conflict began in her, she was only a few streets from home and she was ready to collapse onto her coach. But she had a soft spot for the weak, Cesare always mocked her for it. Running a hand through her hair, she sighed and looked toward the stars. _Damn._ Taking off toward the sound of the screams, she found the alley and a man beating a woman, while the man's friends stood by and laughed, giving him advice as to where to inflict more pain. Silently, Fiora sprinted up behind the man and rolled of his back, forcing him to bend over and release the woman. Landing on her knees in front of him, she lashed at his throat, the force of the swing sending the, now dead, man on his back. Blood splattered the walls and few drops found its way onto Fiora's face. The woman cried in fear as she looked into Fiora's eyes and ran. _Smart girl._ Fiora swung around to face the companions but found none, save their bodies scattered on the pavement and white hooded man bending over one of them. Senses screaming of danger, Fiora tried not to respond too violently or fearfully to the man in white as he straightened and turned towards her.

"_Buona Sera, signora_."

_Assassino._


	2. Chapter 2

Fiora didn't move. In seconds, she tried to study all she could of the assassin in front of her. Clothed in white with a cape and a sash of red, his armor was rather light, allowing quick movement. Weapons littered his form; a sword strapped to his hip, throwing daggers in any place that would allow, a vicious dagger, and a small hammer strapped to his side. His countenance was completely shadowed save a bearded chin and mouth, which held a scar and a smirk. Fiora narrowed her eyes, _what did he find so amusing?_ In the end, her irritation outdid her fear.

"I could have handled this on my own," she finally said, flicking the blood off her fan.

"I completely agree," he responded, glancing behind her at her victim.

"But I couldn't let you have all the fun."

His voice was deep and relaxed, flirtatious even. _He obviously has no idea who I am._ The smirk never left and before Fiora could react, he held her hand in his and brushed his lips along her fingers. Jerking back, she ripped her hand out of his and backed away. There were so many things running through her mind. _Why is he being so civil? I just killed a man! He should be fearful or disgusted even, not cordial. _

"Hmm, for courtesan you're rather… unaccommodating," he hummed, teasing.

_Damn_. She'd dropped her courtesan act in the fight and with the sudden appearance of her enemy, it remained unworn. It was too late now to act the part of courtesan; he knew she was much more.

"I'm currently of duty," Fiora replied, trying to salvage all she could.

"Ah, I see…"

He didn't believe her.

"Well, _signore_, my business is done here," she said, turning to leave but his voice stopped her.

"May I at least be honored with the opportunity of knowing your name, _signora_?"

Fiora looked over her shoulder at his outstretched arms, silently inviting her to trust him. _Why? _

"I'm afraid I don't give my name to strangers. My _madre _taught me it's very dangerous to do so," she smirked, flicking her fan open.

The man chuckled.

"Then let me no longer remain a stranger," he responded and gave a low bow.

"My name is Ezio Auditore and it is my pleasure to meet you."

There was a small twitch in her fanning. It was the second time that night that Fiora's insides twisted uncomfortably but she couldn't help but be amused. _If only he knew who I was, then he wouldn't be so pleased._

"Ezio… A handsome name," she purred, pulling up her courtesan attitude in a hope to hide her recognition from her eyes.

Her instincts were telling her to run or kill him, but just from her short study of the _maestro_, there was no way she could defeat him. So she curtsied.

"Fiora," she said, her gut twisted.

"Fiora… A beautiful name," he responded, eyeing her.

A loud bang resounded down the alley and the silent killers drop into a defensive position, Ezio spinning around to face the noise. There was shouting and cussing, sounding more like a harmless bar fight than a threat. _A bar fight or not, this is my chance_, eyeing the assassin's back. Slinking backwards and away from the master assassin, she took off. She ran hard and fast, passing her hideout and hiding in the shadows of alley, she wanted to make sure the assassin hadn't followed. After waiting for over an hour, she doubled back. Coming to the front of a shabby house, the door barred by large blocks of wood, she climbed the building and lifted herself through the open window into her current resting place. Closing the window, she pressed her forehead to the glass.

What luck she had! Not only did she run into an assassin, she ran into the MASTER of the assassins. She sighed and leaned against the wall, sinking to sit on the floor. Replaying everything that happened in the alley, she concluded that Ezio couldn't possibly have known her to be a Templar. She gave nothing away, save that she wasn't _just_ a courtesan. During her thought process, she had removed her gear, weapons, and boots. Getting to her feet, she walked over to a wash bowl and cleaned the dried blood from her skin. Now all that weighed on her mind was if to tell Baltasar of her little encounter with Auditore. What bothered her more, however, was that she was even considering not telling him. She was Templar, was she not? Of course she would tell Baltasar.

_But…_

"_Cazzo!"_

Fiora threw down her towel and stalked over to her couch, throwing her body down. It wasn't long before her body outweighed her mind and she fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of a certain assassin and a Templar leader that was never as civil as his enemy had been to her.

* * *

><p>"You're late."<p>

Fiora sighed and closed the door to the back of the barbershop. Because of her late run-in with Ezio Auditore and her hour long stake out, she slept well past morning and woke in the early afternoon, something she did not ever do.

"I'm here now, just give me Cesare's assignment," she said, ignoring Baltasar's beady look.

"What happened last night?" he asked, crossing his arms and standing.

"Why do you assume something happened?" Fiora shot back, taking her usual seat by the table.

"You've just barely woken up. You never sleep this late, unless something kept you busy last night," he said, his tone of voice was irritating.

"I wasn't screwing a noble if that is what you are implying."

"Well, you are a courtesan."

"I _was _a courtesan."

"No matter but there is something you are not telling me."

I growled and threw my feet up on the table, making sure to make a loud bang with each boot heel.

"I saved a woman from rape last night. Satisfied?" she spit back, glaring. _Why am I doing this? Why am I not telling him about Auditore?_

Baltasar studied Fiora for a moment, the air was tense and Fiora only hoped he believed that there was nothing else to the story.

"You've always had a disgusting soft spot for the helpless. It will be your undoing," he finally said, taking a seat at the table too.

"And yours will be your gambling," she retorted, receiving a nice glare in return.

"Just tell me what Cesare wants done."

* * *

><p>Sorry the chapters are short right now. I promise that they'll start getting longer as I continue. Please Review! I like to hear feedback :)<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

"You are what makes us worse than what we already are."

"Are you sure? Perhaps it was the other way around, child."

The afternoon was hot, the stone street radiating heat accumulated from the sun and burning Fiora's bare feet as she swayed and cooed with three other courtesans. Of course, they weren't walking along side her willingly, unless one calls one swipe from her fan to the throat a willing agreement. After her time in the _bordellos_, all courtesans made it a point to avoid her, casting her as an exile. But several threats to their already pathetic lives made them cooperative and unwilling to share their experience with others. But that didn't mean they kept quiet while Fiora was within hearing distance. One of the girls, who couldn't be more than fifteen with wispy false blonde hair, was the most vocal.

"At least we have honor. At least we-" she began, hissing behind her fan.

"There is nothing honorable about selling ones virtue for money," Fiora's voice no longer patiently exasperated but hard and final.

The child blushed and focused on a nearby patrol, pursuing the topic no longer. It was a low blow; she hadn't been much different than her when she began her time as a courtesan. But just because she had been one, doesn't mean she was proud of it. Fiora shifted her shoulders, the whore dress falling a little more down her arms, drawing the eyes of more than the common soldier. She had chose to wear her old common courtesan attire for this outing than her usual gear. A decision the ex-courtesan didn't particularly enjoy but a decision that guaranteed her discretion. As she walked with the other courtesan's, flashes of past memories threatened to steal her attention.

"_Signore, you may choose whom ever pleases you most."_

_ His gaze wafted over the girls, a confident smirk on his lightly tanned face. Then his sharp eyes locked with hers._

"_You."_

No. She was not doing this here. Shoving against the memory, she pushed it far away from her conscious. Distraction, she needed it now.

"Well, look here boys."

_Perfect. _Fiora smirked and turned to face the small group of approaching local guards.

"May we be of service to you boys?" Fiora purred, brushing her hand along her collarbone.

"We promise to give a good time," said the light brunette on her right, tantalizingly lifting her short dressings in the front an inch higher.

A few of the men whistled, another grabbed fast to the little, mouthy blonde's wrist and pulled her to him. Her eyes were panicked for several seconds but her body responded to him, pushing him with her hips into the nearest alleyway. Fiora's gut wrenched with sickness, she didn't like the look in that soldiers eyes. Hot breath pulsed onto Fiora's neck making her turn to the last remaining soldier not already being entertained.

"Shall we find somewhere… private, _caro_?" she whispered, her mouth inches from his.

The guard smirked but though his eyes shown in an irresistible lust for her, business was on his mind.

Fiora followed the guard through a secluded road between buildings, the walkway narrow and damp. The walkway was a series of dark alleyways connected together and could be found in anywhere the buildings were close. The roads of the underworld: short cuts for thieves, shelters for beggars, and business venues for courtesans. They passed one of the courtesans hard at work and the guard patted his fellow brother with pride as they passed. The guard continued to walk and stopped outside a small door less doorway leading into a secluded and neglected garden.

"He's in there," the guard grunted, jerking his head towards the entrance.

"_Grazie_, _caro_," Fiora sighed, clucking a slim figure under his jaw and entering the garden.

"Fiora, I must say, your old uniform makes you more pathetic than your current one. No wonder Cesare picked you."

The voice was gruff, as if the voice box had been dragged down the rough street and been given back to it's owner, permanently damaged. Fiora eyes flicked to the farthest corner and found a tall, stocky man in the shadows, his muddy brown cowl revealing only dead eyes and a constant frown.

"You're one to talk, Il Carnefice. When you can manage not to stain your clothes past the point of saving, then you can call me pathetic," she replied with cold civility, eyeing his blood stained apron and leather breaches with disgust.

"You have orders for me," Carnefice said, ignoring her jab and holding out his hand.

"Cesare has a hefty list this time and he wants it complete in a fortnight," Fiora said, handing him the list.

Carnefice glanced over the list and then, raising an eyebrow, looked up at the ex-courtesan, his black eyes unreflecting.

"Well, it appears you won't be attending Cesare's next party, _puttana_."

Fiora stilled but kept her face composed.

"Seems your names on this list."

She silently shifted her fan in her hand and hardened into a glare. It was several seconds before the executioner chuckled darkly.

"At peace, sister. I only jest. It wouldn't matter if your name were on it or not. I can't read."

"Then have your guards read it to you like a good little boy," Fiora hissed, done with his games.

"The list will be done."

Tucking the list behind his apron, he walked away and turned his head as he exited to address her.

"While you're in all your glory, why don't you entertain my guard? Since he has been keeping watch and not joining in the fun with the rest of them."

"I'm no longer in the business."

"Oh? So it wasn't you who had bedded and killed Cesare's brother?"

Fiora's nose flared with indignation as the executioner left and the guard entered. Now his eyes held all lust, no seriousness from before.

"Shall we, _puttana_? I'm in much need of relief and soft skin to bite."

_Really? That had to be the worst thing to say._

She flicked her fan open, swiped and moved away, the guard's lower tunic and belt falling to the ground, leaving him unprotected in his area of much needed relief.

"Move any closer and I _will _give you the relief you seek," Fiora threatened, moving her fan to reflect the sun and casting a deadly fear into the guard's eyes.

But the guard was foolish, as she expected, and lunged at her. She deepened in stance ready for his throat to come into striking distance. What she hadn't expected was the whisper of cloth, the infamous sound of metal against metal and the guard to fall dead at her feet, with a white clad figure on top of it. The figure with drew his now bloody hand from the guard's neck, revealing the notorious hidden blade of the Assassins. The assassin stood and stepped over the body to stand inches away from Fiora, a scarred smirk she recognized gracing the handsome features.

"We meet again, Fiora_._"

_ Perfect…_

"E-Ezio Auditore?" Her day just kept getting deeper and deeper in the mud.

To say she was surprised was an understatement. Here stood before her the _maestro_ of the Assassins, killing Il Carnefice's men, and speaking calmly to her. How much did her hear? Did he see Il Carnefice leave? Does he know what she is? How much does he know?

"I know I'm handsome, _bella mia_, but you must learn to guard yourself from my charm," Ezio smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Fiora started, realizing while she had been deep in thought, her eyes had never left the _assassino_. Her face flushed in embarrassment and anger.

"You are not as stunning as you think," replied Fiora, holding her chin high.

"No? Then why are you blushing?" The Ezio pointed at her cheeks, his smirk never leaving.

"Don't mistake my anger for admiration."

"Don't I at least get a thank you?"

"Thank you?"

"I just saved you from an attacking guard."

The tension in her body relaxed slightly. Judging from his speech, Ezio had not seen Il Carnefice and did not hear her conversation with him. But just having this _assassino_ close made her tense no matter what.

"I was fine without you."

"Always the unaccommodating courtesan."

Fiora scowled, what was it about this man that made her loose her act? She couldn't pretend that she was the infatuated, innocent courtesan she was supposed to be around him. She opened her mouth to retaliate but stopped when she heard raised voices coming from outside the garden. A growl, a scream of fear and desperation, a loud smack. Fiora's mind returned to the little blonde being lead away, the look in the soldier's eye. The ex-courtesan cursed and ran out of the garden, down the walkway and turned into an alleyway. There, she found the scene she would be expecting. A shivering frightened girl with a bright red cheek, trapped in the grasp of a hungry man, forcing himself on her after his time was over. Fiora knew the situation all too well.

"Hey _stronzo!_"

The guard turned towards Fiora, his eyes wild.

"Keep moving, _puttana_. I'm busy," he grunted and turned back to the girl, who began to cry hysterically.

"Shut up! I'm not through with you!"

"I think you are, _signore_."

The guard turned in confusion toward Fiora and looked to the man who had joined her at her side. She also looked to her side and saw Ezio's demeanor completely changed from before. No longer was there the charismatic, boyish charm from before. Now she saw the _assassino, _the _maestro_ of the Assassins, his face stern and still, deadly. The guard's eyes widened at Ezio.

"_Assassino…._" he whispered, dropping the girl and backing towards the street.

The guard's eyes flicked to Fiora's and then back to Ezio's, tumbling backwards and running out of the alleyway.

"_Lurido porco_," spat Ezio but Fiora was already gone, running after the guard.

On a normal day, Fiora would let the man go. But the man had seen her, seen her with Ezio, a Templar agent and an assassin, standing side by side. Better yet, the man was a guard for Il Carnefice, one who joked with her life, one who would be more than willing to pass the information of her being with an assassin to Cesare. The guard was a liability. As Fiora ran through the crowded streets, hot on the tail of the guard, a shadow passed over the sun above and she glanced up at the roofs. Ezio ran and jump, following the progress of Fiora and the guard from above. Not good, she needed to get to the guard before Ezio. If she didn't, Ezio would know she was his enemy.

_ But why does that bother me?_

Her running pace increased, her determination hardened, she had eyes only for her target. He was panicked, limbs flailing with every crowd he encountered and stumbling over boxes and small children. This made it all the more easy for Fiora. She leaped over the ruckus he left in his wake and shoved people out of the way, quickly gaining on him as he turned sharply left into a much smaller and secluded street. In his last moments of desperation, the guard made one fatal mistake: he looked back. Fiora leaped, her fan flicked open behind her and as she made contact, she slit his throat. They fell to the ground, Fiora crouched over the guard who choked and spluttered, his fingers feeling the open gash along his throat.

"_Tra-tradi-tore!"_ the man coughed, a thick blood clot landing on Fiora's cheek as she watched the life leave his eyes.

She breathed heavily and cleaned her fan on the guard's tunic. This was not good. Yes, she silenced the guard but that didn't hide the fact that she now had two dead guards on her hands. And now she would have to explain everything to Il Carnefice _and then _to Cesare. This day was glorious.

"Fiora."

The ex-courtesan straightened and looked over her shoulder at Ezio. He stood not far behind her and past him, Fiora glimpsed horrified civilians running in fear or frozen in shock. She needed to get out of here, Cesare's guards would soon be here and then what would she do if they saw her with the assassin?

"The deed is done, Auditore. You may continue with your day," she said and stepped over the guard.

But the moment she put her foot on the ground, she gasped in pain and brought it back up. Fiora looked down to find her self, standing in a pool of her own blood, the precious liquid dripping steadily from her raised foot. She hadn't realized what the chase had done to her bare feet and now she wished she hadn't dressed in her old courtesan attire.

"_Merda…" _

"We need to get you to a _doctore_," said Ezio, taking her arm and putting over his shoulders.

"No, there is no need-" Fiora began, as he lifted her into his arms.

"No need? You are right, bleeding to death is nothing serious at all," he commented, keeping a straight face but unable to hide the smile in his eyes.

"But, I could hardly resist the chance to save a damsel in distress."

He winked, Fiora rolled her eyes. Gone was the deadly assassin, back was the boyish flirt.

"You are impossible."

"Oh, I must disagree, _cara_. You'll find me _very_ possible."

* * *

><p>See, I promised I'd make the chapters longer. Also, if you hadn't noticed already, all these characters are mostly the multiplayer avatars from Brotherhood and will be throughout this entire story.<p>

Thank you to **Lalalala** and **DucLeJaques** for reviewing.

Lalalala: Thank you! Hopefully you keep loving lol.

DucLeJaques: How was that? ;) And I'm not so busy now, so expect more in the future and sooner. Don't worry, there is much more Ezio to come.

As well as, thank you to **DSMA, EpicKlauke5, Leontine, BlackAngelic, newyorkersteph0804, DucLeJaques, **and **GeeDeeny** for the follows; and **Otaku Addictd Dweeb **and **Kesshin15** for the favorties :)

Thanks for reading and please provide feedback!

C.V.D.


	4. Chapter 4

_I can't be seen. I can't be seen with him!_

Here Fiora was, sitting in a chair located in a small room with her feet propped on a stool, a masked _dottore_ poking and prodding. The room was dodgy and reeked of unnatural aromas, easily giving her a dull headache. Ever since Fiora was a child, the masked _dottori_ of Italia struck in her a deep uneasiness. It wasn't the men who administered to the afflicted she felt strange about; it was the very idea of a _dottore_. Why do societies need men of medicine? Because there was sickness, because there were random accidents that just happened. This was what Fiora feared: the natural afflictions that the common man has learned to expect. She feared dying of a sickness or a random horse kicking in her head. Her idea of death was to die for something, not because something happened.

"Careful!" she hissed, withdrawing a foot quickly, "You are suppose to heal pain, not cause it."

The _dottore_ simply stared, as a parent would with a fit-throwing child, and then resumed his attention to her feet.

"Forgive her, _signore_. She tends to shun help. Pay no mind."

And there was him.

Fiora turned a frosty glare at the assassin who sat on chair against the wall, watching the scene of a bloody ex-courtesan and a beaked _dottore_. A panic had settled within her the moment the assassin made his grand entrance with the slaying of Il Carnefice's guard. Then the other, now deceased guard saw her with the assassin. There were going to be questions, there were going to be suspicions. Fiora closed her eyes at the thought and the dread that spread through her.

_Cesare is going to kill me._

"You know, people usually try to avoid getting into dangerous situations. Not run to them."

Again, Fiora sent a brilliantly annoyed glare his way. He had a lovely talent of disturbing her inner thoughts.

"Are you saying I'm sick in the head?" she said smoothly and followed with another hiss at the doctor who applied a pasty substance to her soles.

"Perhaps… There is obviously some perversion of perception."

The assassin gave a simple wave of his hand as he spoke, obviously completely comfortable with his surroundings and small smirk settled upon his scarred lips. A stark difference from Fiora, who was so tightly wound, ready to snap with a prompt frown on her face.

"Are you this annoying all the time?"

A smirk.

"Yes, I am this charming all the time."

An eye roll.

Fiora avoided any conversation as the _dottore_ wrapped her feet in thick bandages and tied it tightly around her ankles. As the _dottore_, finished the last knot, a finger skimmed an old scar on her shinbone, his eyes meeting hers in a brief understanding. He remembered her, he had treated her before.

"This is all that I can do, _signora_. You must do the rest by remaining off your feet for several days to let them heal," said the _dottore_, walking over to basin to clean his hands of Fiora's blood.

"Then how am I to leave this place?" Fiora growled, widely waving her hand and scrunching her nose at the smells wafted towards her in result of her movement.

"Perhaps the same way you arrived? This young man seems to be more than willing to assist you," suggested the _dottore_ to which Ezio let out a laugh.

"Indeed, _signore_. I am more than willing to _assist_," the assassin hummed, giving Fiora a teasing look.

The assassin then stood and walked to her holding out a pale yellow dress, a courtesan dress to her. She looked at the dress and then looked at him, raising a brow.

"You don't want to walk around in that bloody thing do you? People would treat you like a walking plague."

The assassin pointed to her attire and she couldn't help but agree. Ripped, slashed, bloodied, soiled; from the drastic chase to the guard's death, the dress was beyond saving. _Pity, this one was one of my favorites…_

"However, you could just go without clothes…"

Fiora quickly snatched the dress before she allowed the assassin to further his fantasy.

"How did you acquire this? Did you seduce a poor girl right out of it?" she questioned, holding the clothing out to take a better look.

That smirk. Fiora was itching to smack it off his face.

"Will you be needing assistance, _Madonna_?" the assassin asked, holding out his hand in offering.

Fiora simply looked at him and he chuckled, backing away and then turned to the _dottore_.

"Shall we discuss payment outside, _signore_?"

"Indeed, we shall."

As soon as the door closed behind the two men, Fiora was instantly in action. Gingerly, she rose to her feet, hissing at the acute pain that shot up her legs. But she didn't have to think about her feet; she needed to get away from the assassin. With skill that came only from her trade, Fiora was undressed and dressed in less than minutes. She limped to the door and held an ear to it. A lower tone, the assassin, and a higher tone, the _dottore_, were still conversing. Good, let that assassin pay for her treatment, he was the one that got her into this mess to begin with. Glancing down, Fiora noticed a pair of boots, probably for use when the _dottore_ wasn't dressed in his uniform. Grabbing more bandages, Fiora stuffed them at the bottom of the boots and slipped her legs into them. They were comically large, bulging far from her calves but they would do. Plodding over to the only way of escape, a window on the opposite wall of the door, Fiora carefully slipped her fingers beneath the frame and lifted the window as quietly as possible. Once safely on the other side of the window, she treaded to the corner of the building and peeked around. The _dottore _and assassin were nowhere to be seen. Taking no time to celebrate her success, the ex-courtesan quickly slipped into the evening crowd and became one of the masses.

After many looks over her shoulder and quick short cuts, Fiora made it undetected and tail free to her home. Usually, she would simply climb through her window but her poor feet stopped any thought of that. Walking to the back of the building, she reached into the unlit torch next the back door and let herself in. Limping up the stairs and to her room, she collapsed heavily onto her couch and let out a great sigh. As she lay, Fiora easily concluded that she hadn't had a day quite as horrible as today in quite a long time. Threatened, almost molested, caught with an assassin, killing a guard, wounded, a doctor's visit, a quick escape; a most dreadful day indeed. Shaking the boots of her feet, Fiora sat up to peer down at her wounds. Unfortunately, the bandages had soaked through but only a little, not as awful as she had imagined they would be. Walking delicately over to an adjacent room that was her washroom, Fiora filled her tub with hot water and nearly ripped the courtesan dress off of her in her haste. Careful to keep her bandaged feet above the water, she descended into the steaming water and sighed with relief.

Fiora could have easily spent all night in the tub but alas, the water didn't have the same intention as it soon became cold, offering no comfort. Awkwardly pulling herself out of the tub, still desperate to keep her feet dry, she toweled herself and pulled on a silk robe, exiting the washroom.

"You really thought you could escape me again, _Madonna?_"

* * *

><p>Forgive me! It has been waaaaaaaaay to long since I last updated. This chapter is short due to the excellent cliff hanger that I just couldn't resist giving you ;) Don't worry, I'm already working on the next chapter and it won't be as long as a wait as it has been.<p>

Please Review! I do read them!

**xXspidercatXx**: Me too honestly lol. I'm still trying to figure out a good way to break the news :)

Thank you to **Random Freaky Kid, xXspidercatXx, chausters, allonzi, Nerdman3000, Asteraea, TURB0 J0HNS0N, Leonineus, NecroAstartes, kj124GCode541, The Robber, Darkxorcist, **and **Lurichan** for the alerts!

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C.V.D.


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